Dear Lucy: Lovesick and Moorebid Ball

Written by Dear Lucy on October 27th, 2011

DEAR LUCY,

Last weekend I went to a party at my biggest crush’s house. I drank more than I probably should have and I also smoked marijuana—a combination I usually try to avoid for reasons that will become clear. Anyway, I was sitting in a room with a group of friends and all of a sudden I caught the spins and enter the house of nausea. I “casually” exited the room and ran to the bathroom but it was in use. So, I ran up to the attic and puked up my dinner of spaghetti and tomato sauce all over the floor. Almost immediately after I had emptied my stomach through my mouth/nose, my crush just so happened to come up to the attic (with a girl!). I panicked and ran downstairs and out the door without saying anything. I feel really bad about not cleaning up my mess, but I’m also incredibly embarrassed. What should I do?? Is it better to take responsibility for my actions and apologize? Or should I just ignore the incident and pretend it never happened?

Yours truly,
Lovesick In The Attic

DEAR LITA
OOF! We genuinely feel bad for you. Everyone has been there and we all know that humiliating yourself in front of a crush can be devastating. We know someone who, after taking a few too many tequila shots, ended up slap-groping the upper thigh of a crush. Mind you, this was not a light, cute, giggling thigh-brush. This was an aggressive, just shy of an OTPHJ (over-the-pants-hand-job), thigh-slap and massage.

The upside of this terrible, awful interaction is that your crush will not be forgetting who you are any time soon. Use this as an opportunity to talk to them. You’re first encounter will be one million miles beyond awkward—and what do we do when we’re embarrassed and awkward!? Make jokes!

Don’t try and explain how drunk and high you were because then you’ll just look like a little light-weight bitch who can’t even handle a little dranky drank and smokey smoke. Just say something like “surprisingly, spaghetti tastes just as good on the way up as it does on the way down!” or “What a waste! That spaghetti was really expensive natural, grass-fed, organic, antibiotic free spaghetti that I bought with my trust fund I AM RICH!” Now the ice is broken, everyone feels a little more comfortable and the two can talk and reminisce about the whole thing. Jenny Lewis once whispered in my ear (through my headphones) that talking leads to sex; so throwing up dinner and talking about it could end up being some great groundwork for a potential relationship. We do not, however, recommend this as an icebreaker for future crushes.

We’ll leave you with a tip from the Great Book of Jeremiah L. Budin: ALWAYS PUKE OUTSIDE. This is by far the best solution. First: it’s dark and no one can see you. Second: wild animals will most likely take care of the evidence. Third: you can use leaves to wipe your mouth and that is the environmentally friendly alternative to using handfuls of toilet paper and being green is so hot right now.

DEAR LUCY,

The two of you sound attractive, intelligent, honest and well situated in this CAH-RAZY world of ours. Can you please give us some general advice on Moorebid Ball, Skidmore’s Halloween celebration?

– A PERSON WHO IS REAL AND NOT FAKE I SWEAR

DEAR APWIRANFIS,
Thank you for those kind words. It really means a lot to be recognized for the 45 minutes of incredibly hard work we put into getting drunk enough to write this column each month. I am glad you enjoy our oeuvre, but let’s stop flattering each other and just get a cab back to campus. Yea?

Back when all you little brats were still having your mothers pack your lunches, Skidmore’s campus was located behind Congress Park (If you’ve ever gotten lost on the way home from Pelican you’ve probably walked right through the heart of old campus, congrats). Over the years Skidmore sold off most of those buildings to various groups but one holdout lasted into the era of recent memory: Moore Hall.

Moore Hall was this hideous pink building on Union Ave that was famous for, among other things, a Halloween party hosted in their basement called Moorebid Ball. Today, the name lives on. If you catch freshmen spelling it “M-O-R-B-I-D” make sure to tease and torment them into line.

The key to having a successful Halloween night is solidifying solid pre- and post-Moorebid plans. The party before allows you to assemble your costume, take photos, make memories and talk everyone’s ear off about the person you’re going to try and bang, all while fortifying yourself with just the perfect amount of alcohol. My past pre-Moorebid parties have all been pretty fun and, to be completely honest, much more fun than the actual Ball. However, you’re probably going to want to go to Moorebid to check out the scene and see if anything crazy happens. Who knows? Maybe someone will accidentally knock over a large pole onto some girl’s head and cause massive bleeding, or you’ll see Lil’ Jon make out with a flapper.

To the after party! By this point in the evening everyone has drank quite a bit and is ready for slurred conversations and continued “bumpin’ and grindin’” of dirty bits. Caroline Street on Halloween is a mess. People put on costumes and take off their inhibitions and every girl from Cohoes to Albany comes to Saratoga dressed as a Sexy Something Or Other. If you’re not old enough to go DT then you’ll have to go home, lay in bed and try not to think about all the terrible things senior lacrosse players in somewhat racist costumes are doing to your crush. Sorry.

If you don’t wear a costume you suck. If you see someone struggling and you don’t help them you suck. If you think that Halloween is “for kids” you suck. If you don’t have fun you suck.